Three days had passed since the Hyūga coalition's three thousand soldiers were wiped out.
In that time, the Konoha Alliance was practically glowing with morale. Ten days since the campaign began, and they'd already crushed a force three times their size.
War had no trophies, but this one felt close enough.
The report eventually reached Hyūga Tennin, commander of the Hyūga armies stationed at Kishui Gorge.
The moment he heard it, the man's composure cracked. His rage was volcanic—but only for a heartbeat. A real commander didn't throw tantrums.
Once he heard that Amamiya Raizen had unleashed a power beyond reason, Tennin's anger cooled into wary silence.
He didn't attack. He fortified. The Hyūga army pulled back and entrenched at the gorge, waiting. Watching.
Inside the Konoha camp, Inuzuka Daisaku paced like a caged wolf.
"Hyūga Tennin's dug in at Kishui Gorge. If he keeps hiding behind those cliffs, we can't even lure him out."
Raizen, seated on a wooden crate that had seen better days, didn't look up.
"That's fine. Let him rot there. We already wiped out three thousand of his men. He's the one running out of options, not us."
Daisaku frowned. "But if we stay still too long, Aburame's and my units will get stretched thin. We'll lose pressure on the other fronts—"
Raizen raised a hand. "No. We wait."
His voice was steady, calm in that unnerving way that always meant he'd already thought three moves ahead.
He leaned back, eyes half-lidded. "Tennin's paranoid now. If we push, he'll dig in harder. Besides..."
Raizen's lips curved slightly. "I've got something to test."
Daisaku didn't argue further. He'd learned that when Raizen smiled like that, someone—somewhere—was about to regret being alive.
That "someone" turned out to be a captured Hibiscus Clan jōnin.
Their clan had joined the Hyūga alliance early—first to sign up, first to die.
Raizen stepped into the prisoner tent, eyes faintly glowing under the lamplight. The chained shinobi looked up, sensing something colder than steel in his gaze.
"Unlucky day," Raizen muttered. "You're perfect for an experiment."
The prisoner tried to speak, but his chakra was sealed, his body bound. All he could do was stare as Raizen's right eye shifted—black to crimson, spinning like a cursed whirlpool.
"Let's see what my new toy can do."
The air rippled.
"Tsukuyomi."
In an instant, the world bled red.
The Hibiscus ninja blinked—and found himself nailed to a wooden cross in a void of endless crimson.
Raizen stood before him, expression unreadable.
"You'll experience the pain of death for the next twenty-four hours."
A blade shimmered into his hand, and without hesitation, Raizen drove it through the man's chest.
The scream tore through the red world.
The Hibiscus ninja looked down, eyes wide at the steel jutting from his heart. He waited for death. It didn't come.
Raizen pulled the blade free. The wound closed instantly. Then he stabbed again.
Over and over.
Each cut was new, each pain as vivid as the first.
Outside, in the real world, the other prisoners exchanged nervous glances. Raizen and the Hibiscus jōnin stood frozen—eyes locked, bodies still—but there was something in the air that made the hairs on their necks rise.
After what felt like forever, the jutsu ended.
The prisoner collapsed, body convulsing, foam spilling from his lips. His eyes were open, but no one was home.
Raizen exhaled, rubbing his temple. "Not bad. But only for one-on-one use."
He turned to leave, voice flat. "Still... terrifyingly effective."
Outside the camp, Raizen headed for the forest. The sound of birds vanished as soon as he arrived.
One by one, he tested the arsenal now at his command.
Byakugan.
Eternal Mangekyō Sharingan.
Susanoo.
Amaterasu.
Flame Control.
Kamui shuriken.
Each name was another layer of power—and another layer of exhaustion. The forest trembled under his chakra, trees disintegrating into cinders as black flames devoured everything around him.
The Konoha shinobi stationed nearby stopped what they were doing and just stared. Their commander looked less like a man and more like a natural disaster in human form.
Then Raizen tried something insane, even by his own standards: combining Sage Mode with the Eternal Mangekyō.
The result?
Nothing.
No ripple of evolution. No Rinnegan. No godhood. Just a drained Raizen muttering curses under his breath.
"Figures. Guess even god eyes need better hardware."
He came to a conclusion: to awaken the Rinnegan, he'd need not just ocular power, but the body of a sage—a balance his own flesh lacked.
Still, he wasn't entirely disappointed. During the experiments, he noticed something interesting:
When he created Shadow Clones and had them enter Sage Mode, they could each wield a Complete Susanoo—but the chakra drain was brutal. Five minutes, and they'd pop like overinflated balloons.
He smirked.
"Five minutes of apocalypse is still five minutes more than anyone else gets."